


Charming Shoulders and Dangerous Smiles

by SkepticalBeliever



Series: Tales of Gina Martin [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, Multi, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-07-16 17:20:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7276984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkepticalBeliever/pseuds/SkepticalBeliever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The girl grinned up at Gina. It was a transformative smile, the kind that could light up even the dingiest corners of the Ark. It was the kind of smile that could inspire the masses and break teenaged hearts. It was a dangerous smile, Gina decided. “I’m Clarke, by the way,” she said, stretching out her hand. </p>
<p>“Gina,” she replied, taking it.</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Or, the one where Gina, Clarke, and Bellamy are all in the same room together, and none of them have a clue what lies in store for them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Charming Shoulders and Dangerous Smiles

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: I was super bummed when we found out at the beginning of season 3 that Bellamy had a new girlfriend (who wasn't Clarke). But then we got a few scenes with her and, damn it, I was charmed. I was equally sad when they killed her off. So, please accept my attempt at giving Gina a little more life. Because Gina was real, guys. Gina was real.
> 
> This is the first in a series of one-shots told from her perspective. This series will focus on Gina's relationship with Bellamy, her friendship with Raven, and her thoughts on bellarke.

At the ripe age of twenty, Gina Martin thought she had a solid understanding of her place in the universe. She was neither born to greatness nor aspired to it, although she relished the idea that one of her students may someday achieve greatness. She only had a few short months until she would be a fully licensed teacher and she fully intended to take that responsibility seriously, even if no one else did.

In the meantime, she was a bartender.

The Ark had one sad excuse for a watering hole on the entire space station. It was tucked away in a dim corner of Mecha Station, frequented by the physically and mentally exhausted, and supervised by the watchful eyes of the guard.  Although alcohol was not technically an illegal substance on the Ark, it was tightly monitored; patrons of the bar were limited to two drinks at any given visit, regardless of how many ration points they threw at the bartenders.

Despite strict regulations, Gina saw plenty of business most nights. For her, it was a cheap source of entertainment. There was always a rowdy group from Engineering, taking up the largest table and laughing at jokes that were above her paygrade. Off-duty guards frequently tried to charm her into giving them their drinks for free, to which she merely rolled her eyes and smiled coyly while handing them their bill. Stragglers, coming in from their shifts from God knows where, would collapse at the bar and gaze up at her pitifully until she poured them their first round.

It was excellent people watching.

One evening, the bar was fairly deserted. A woman, whom Gina knew operated some shady black market trades and whom she avoided on principle, sat at the bar, absently stirring her drink with her pinky. A girl with a short blonde braid running down her back leaned over her table, scribbling furiously into a small notebook. Occasionally, she would glance up, blue eyes intently focused, before ducking back down and resuming her sketching. Gina followed the girl’s gaze to the man at the end of the counter, whose back was turned towards the girl, head ducked over a project of his own.

Gina had seen him there a couple times although she could hardly call him a regular. He normally kept to himself, limiting himself to one drink, before smiling politely and disappearing back to whatever corner of the Ark he called home. He was handsome, maybe a year or two older than she was, with dark, cropped hair and a peculiar smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose. Gina could hardly blame the girl for staring at him; she had caught herself doing the same on occasion. However, Gina never dwelled too much on it; a guy like that _must_ have someone special to go home to.

She made her rounds, wiping down the already spotless tabletops for the umpteenth time, when she glanced over the blonde girl’s table. That she had been sketching tall, dark, and dreamy had never been a question. That she had captured the expanse of his back and shoulders with any degree of skill had been less certain.

“Looks good,” Gina commented, keeping her voice low enough so only the girl could hear. “Very realistic.”

The girl glanced up with a sheepish smile. “I don’t suppose you’d believe me if I said I was practicing for my medical apprenticeship?”

Gina smirked. “I think I’d need to see more muscle tissue and less…charm.”

“Charm?” The girl arched her brow and suddenly Gina was the one who felt sheepish.

“It’s too romanticized to be clinical,” she replied after a moment’s deliberation.

“Well, given the subject…” she trails off, nodding in his direction. “I really was just practicing,” she adds, her voice and expression thoughtful.

“Just not for your apprenticeship.”

“Unless my mother asks.”

“Your secret is safe with me.”

The girl grinned up at Gina. It was a transformative smile, the kind that could light up even the dingiest corners of the Ark. It was the kind of smile that could inspire the masses and break teenaged hearts. It was a dangerous smile, Gina decided. “I’m Clarke, by the way,” she said, stretching out her hand.

“Gina,” she replied, taking it. “You have a gift there,” she nodded to the sketch.

Clarke’s cheeks colored a rosy hue. “I had a good subject.” Her eyes fell on the man in the corner again, brows tilted up in what Gina thought looked like concern. “He looks…stressed,” she murmured, mostly to herself.

“Most people are when they come in here,” Gina replied, glancing down at Clarke thoughtfully. They remained there for a moment, lost in their own thoughts, both watching the man as he rolled the tension out of his shoulders and drained the last of his drink.

Gina shook herself out of the trance first. “Need a refill on your water?”

“No, I should probably get going. But could you give him another refill? On me?” She tucked her sketch under her arm.

Gina leveled her with a pointed stare. “You’re not old enough.”

Clarke sighed and Gina got the distinct impression that she was not used to having her suggestions questioned. “No, but _he_ is. And he looks like he could use another.”

She did not wait for Gina’s answer, merely shrugged on her jacket and waved as she walked out of the bar.

Gina shook her head and wandered behind the counter, rummaging through the cupboards for another mug. She filled it to the brim and set it down in front of stressed man in question. He glanced up at her with surprised, brown eyes. “Courtesy of the cute blonde that just left,” she said by way of explanation.

He glanced back over his shoulder to see if he could catch a glimpse, but, of course, she was gone. He smiled ruefully but when his eyes met Gina’s again, it was warm and genuine. “Thanks,” he murmured in a low rasp.

For the second time that evening, Gina thought about dangerous smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments? Critiques? Kudos? You know what to do. :)
> 
> Also, follow me on my [tumblr](http://skepticalbeliever1.tumblr.com/) for more geekery!


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